A Blessing in Disguise
by Avorelia
Summary: Sometimes there are wounds that even magic cannot fix. Harry and Ginny's youngest daughter, Gracie, sustained a brain injury as a result of Dark Magic, and now she faces life in a wheelchair. Upon learning that their daughter has cerebral palsy, the Potters search for beauty amidst the brokenness.
1. Chapter 1

"Are you telling me," Harry said, gritting his teeth at the young-faced Healer in front of him, "that you can mend a broken leg with the flick of a wand, that you can regrow all the bones in the human body with a potion, but you can't—_you can't fix my daughter_?"

"Y-yes—well, it's quite different, really...brain damage...Dark Magic..." the Healer stammered, wringing his hands and glancing at the floor.

"Dark Magic? Are you _mad_? I'm an _Auror_—are you accusing me of performing Dark Magic on my own _daughter_?"

Ginny stifled a sob from the corner of the room.

"No, no, of course not, Mr. Potter, sir...forgive me...your wife mentioned...Aelius Endonym..."

Harry shut his eyes. When Ginny was six months pregnant, Aelius—one of the many Dark wizards intending to avenge Voldemort's defeat—had attempted to break into the Potter residence. Harry had been away at the time, dealing with an emergency at the Ministry, so Ginny was left to fend for herself and their children. She had called for backup immediately, and a team of Aurors arrived who battled with and ultimately killed him. In the precious seconds before they came, however, he'd shot a curse at her. She managed to partially deflect it with a shield charm, but three weeks later, she gave birth to Gracie, who was born more than two months early and had apparently suffered brain damage as a result of the curse.

It was Ginny who spoke now, her voice choked with tears. "So what does this mean for—for Gracie?"

The Healer hesitated. "It's too soon to tell for sure, but your daughter's case of cerebral palsy appears to be fairly mild, comparatively speaking...She has sustained damage to the cerebral cortex, and looks as though she has spastic diplegia, which means that her arms are minimally affected, if at all. Many times, patients with this type of CP have average or above-average intelligence. She does, however, have a great deal of tightness in her legs. There are treatments, both magical and conventional, but no cure for something like this. Even if the damage wasn't the result of Dark Magic, which complicates matters considerably, it's impossible to magic away a brain injury of this nature. Mrs. Potter—it is my responsibility as a Healer to inform you that your daughter will likely never walk independently."

Later that evening, Harry and Ginny stood over Gracie's crib as she slept, blissfully unaware of the news that her parents received and of the challenges that she would face in the coming years. Ginny reached down to stroke her strawberry-blond curls.

"Grace Emmeline Potter," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I thought you'd be my little Quidditch player. I thought you'd take after me."

"She _does_ take after you," Harry said, his tone fierce. "You're both fighters."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

It was July of 2013, just a little more than a month after Gracie's third birthday, and two years since her diagnosis.

Her five-and-a-half-year-old sister, Lily, was wailing in the background.

"Mummy! James stole my broomstick and he's not giving it back! It's _mine_!"

Ginny sighed. "Not right now, Lily. We're going to be late for your sister's appointment! ...Gracie, stay still for mummy, please."

Gracie Potter was wriggling in Ginny's lap as Ginny strapped hard plastic braces onto her crooked legs.

"They hurt," Gracie whimpered. "No braces. Take them off!" She tugged at them, pulling at the Velcro.

"I know, honey," Ginny murmured. "I wish there was a magical way to keep your legs straight so you didn't have to wear them, but they really do help."

Once they were securely fastened, Ginny gathered Gracie into her arms and the two of them, along with Lily, James, and Albus, piled into the fireplace.

"Elbows in, everyone," Ginny said, and she tossed a generous handful of Floo powder into the hearth. "St. Mungo's Hospital," she said, and in a few moments' time, she and her children found themselves in the reception area.

They were all-too-familiar with the hospital, having visited it often since Gracie's diagnosis for her weekly physical therapy appointments. The brunette witch at the front desk barely glanced up at them as they traipsed over.

"Hello, Mrs. Potter. Healer Semperus finished up early with her previous patient, so you can go straight in now," she said.

"All right, thank you," Ginny replied, and then she turned to James. "Go up to Gilderoy's room with Albus and Lily. I'm sure it's been a while since he's had any visitors."

James rolled his eyes. "Gee, Mum, I wonder why! Maybe it's because the last time we visited him, he tried to sign Lily's forehead with a Sugar Quill."

"Well, if you'd prefer, you can come with Gracie and me to her appointment." She smiled, knowing that her children were far too adventurous to agree to that alternative.

James sighed. "Finnnne, we'll go see Gilderoy. Why can't we ever visit somebody cool, like a vampire or a werewolf?"

"Uncle Bill's kind of like a werewolf! And Teddy's dad was a werewolf!" Albus piped up.

James shook his head, exasperated. "Uncle Bill's not a _real_ werewolf, and Teddy's dad doesn't count because we never got to..."

Her children's voices faded as they ran down the hallway toward the lift. "Don't wander off, and stay out of trouble!" she called. "I'll fetch you in an hour or so!"

With that, she headed back with Healer Semperus and set her daughter down on the bed.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Healer Semperus was a plump, pleasant woman with her blond hair tied back into a bun. She smiled down at the three-year-old on the bed—small for her age, with strawberry blond curls that framed her face in ringlets, striking green eyes, and a delicate white dress that ended at her knees, just before her braces.

"Hi Gracie!" she said. "Are you ready to get started?"

She flourished her wand at Gracie's atrophied legs and a shower of purple light fell upon them.

Gracie wrinkled her forehead. "That maked my legs feel funny!"

"I bet it does! No owies though, right?" Healer Semperus said, and Gracie shook her head.

The Healer turned to Ginny. "I'm trying some stronger spells today to release some of the tension in her legs."

"Stronger spells? You mean something permanent? Will it help her walk on her own?"

"Not permanent, no. They'll probably last longer than the usual spells, though—a couple of weeks rather than a few days. You might want to start looking into a wheelchair—"

"A wheelchair? Isn't that some sort of Muggle contraption?"

"Yes, but so are the braces. With injuries like Gracie's, sometimes Muggle technology can be helpful."

The Healer glanced toward Gracie again, muttered an incantation under her breath, and flicked her wand, sending a shower of orange sparks onto the bed.

Gracie giggled. "My legs feels like jelly!"

"Actually," Healer Semperus paused. "That's not a bad idea...maybe we ought to try the Jelly-Legs Curse to loosen her up a bit."

Ginny balked. "A curse? No, no, no. My daughter has already been cursed once in her life and look where it's got her."

The Healer set down her wand for a moment, and a peculiar smile crossed her face. "Yes, but sometimes a curse is a blessing in disguise."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**Author's Note:** This is my first story on FF, and I would love to hear what you think of it so far! Any and all feedback is appreciated. :) More chapters to come!


	2. Chapter 2

"Mummy, guess what Aunt Hermione told me?" Lily said, as Ginny was magicking four plates of PB&J onto the table.

"I don't know; what did she tell you?"

"Mummy! You're s'posed to guess!"

"Your Aunt Hermione is a walking library, honey. I haven't the faintest idea what she told you, but she better not have told you how to brew a Polyjuice Potion or I swear I'll—"

"She said that there are 142 staircases in Hogwarts! Can you believe that? _One-hundred-and-forty-two_, and some of them have vanishing steps and—"

"Enough, Lily."

"But—"

"ENOUGH."

One of the plates of PB&J was hovering in midair, and it fell to the floor and shattered.

_ One-hundred-and-forty-two staircases. One-hundred-and-forty-two reasons why Gracie couldn't attend Hogwarts in a wheelchair._

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Ginny," Harry began, shutting the door with a flicker of his wand. He had walked into the kitchen to find his wife sobbing in a heap on the floor. "Relax. I'm sure Hermione wasn't thinking about our Gracie when she told Lily about the staircases."

"Exactly! _Exactly_, Harry! Because if she was, she wouldn't have said anything! Do you think the four founders were thinking about freaking accessibility when they built Hogwarts, with all of its damn vanishing stairs and moving staircases? Face it, Harry. Our daughter will never be able to go to Hogwarts, all because of Aelius Endonym. I hate him. I _hate_ him."

"Ginny, I'm not saying it's going to be easy. But a simple Levitation Charm can help with the staircases. And I know that disabilities are rare in the wizarding world, but they aren't unheard of. Gracie won't be the first student with a disability by any stretch of the imagination, and she won't be the last."

Of course. _A Levitation Charm_. Magic couldn't solve all of their daughter's problems, but this simple solution had completely slipped her mind.

"Merlin's beard, Harry," Ginny said, a wry smile crossing her face as she wiped away her tears. "Just imagine the kind of trouble she'll be able to get into if she can _fly_ in that chair...with Weasley and Potter blood in her veins, it's practically inevitable!"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Come on, Gracie...try to move your legs...you can do it!" Ginny coached, as Gracie gripped the bars of the walker with white knuckles.

She moved her legs with a slow stiffness, scissoring with each step, and even with the braces holding her feet in place, her heels were raised off of the floor.

"I'm trying, Mummy," she said. "It's hard. I wish I could fly instead!"

Just then, the wheels of the walker rose five feet into the air, and she screamed as it lifted. And then, in her panic, she let go.

Her body slammed to the tile floor, and the walker fell on its side with a deafening crash.

Ginny dropped to her knees and turned her daughter face-up, supporting her head with one hand and her back with the other.

"Gracie, Gracie, Gracie...open your eyes...say something, _anything_! Oh my God...HARRY!"

Albus appeared in the doorway, skidding to a stop when he saw his sister unconscious in his mother's arms.

"Dad's at work," he said, his eyes full of terror.

"Okay...okay...run next door and get Hermione. Hurry!"

It seemed like an eternity before he finally reappeared, with a pale-faced Hermione at his side.

She rushed to Gracie, who lay limply in her mother's arms; her face was covered in blood and both arms were twisted at odd angles.

"Is she...is she _dead_?" Ginny sobbed, her voice barely audible.

"No," Hermione replied softly, one finger on Gracie's wrist to check her pulse, "but Ginny, she looks bad." She tapped her wand on each of Gracie's fractured arms and murmured, "Ferula," to splint them, and then she slipped her wand in her robe pocket. "I could try to fix her further but I'm afraid of making her worse. She needs to go to St. Mungo's. I'll mind the children...just go!"

Within five minutes of the accident, Gracie was rushed to St. Mungo's and passed off to a Healer.

He fixed her injuries with a few swishes of his wand and tucked her into a bed that was donned with thick cotton sheets.

"She'll be fine, Mrs. Potter," he said, "but she'll need to stay here at least until she regains consciousness, so hang tight for now."

A few minutes later, Gracie opened her eyes.

"Mummy," she moaned, as a resident Healer fussed over her. "Everything hurts."

"Gracie!" Ginny was breathless as she bent over the bed. "Are you okay? Do you remember what happened?"

"Yeah," she said. "I floated! Why you make me float, Mummy?"

"_I_ didn't..._you_ did that!"

"I did..._magic_?" she asked, her voice incredulous.

Ginny laughed. "You're more powerful than you know."

Just then, Harry came running into her hospital room.

"Is everything all right?" he asked, his eyebrows creased with worry as he studied his daughter's face. "Ron sent word that someone was hurt and somehow I knew it was you."

"Daddy! I still hurt but I okay! But I can ask a question?"

"Anything."

"The Healers fixed my owies, but why can't they fix my legs?"

Harry glanced nervously at Ginny. "Well...it's kind of like..." He paused to push back his bangs. "You know the lightning scar that Daddy has on his forehead? Your legs are like my scar. Sometimes there are things that magic can't change. But hey, enough about that." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a Peppermint Toad. "For you, because you are the bravest girl I know."

"For goodness sake, Harry, are you trying to make her ill?" Ginny said, but there was a smile in her voice. "Careful, Gracie. Your Uncle George ate a few too many in his second year at Hogwarts and his stomach wouldn't quit jumping around for weeks!"

Just then, there was a soft knock on the door, and Healer Semperus poked her head in. She was propelling an empty wheelchair with her wand.

"Mind if I come in? I heard about what happened and I think it's time to give a wheelchair a try."

Ginny and Harry shared an uncertain glance, and then Harry turned to his daughter.

"Gracie," he said, "Let's go for a ride."

He pulled the sheets off of her and gently lifted her from the bed and into the chair.

Ginny's heart sank as he buckled her in—she looked so _different_, with her braced legs and metal wheels that were almost as big as she was. If disabled Muggle children got teased for their equipment, she couldn't even imagine what magical-blooded children would say. Magic could heal or improve many ailments that might otherwise necessitate the use of a wheelchair, so these kinds of accommodations were not nearly as common in the wizarding world.

"Ready, set, go!" Harry said, and he flourished his wand at her chair so that it hovered slightly and sent her bouncing down the hallway.

Her laughter was infectious—so much so, in fact, that a few Healers poked their heads out of nearby rooms to check that someone hadn't accidentally set off a Tickling Charm.

"Mummy! Daddy!" she squealed. "Look at me! I'm _flying_!"

As Ginny watched Gracie in the wheelchair, she realized that the very contraption that she feared would incapacitate her daughter was, on the contrary, her source of freedom.

"A blessing in disguise," she murmured.

Just outside the room, she could hear her daughter's voice, colored with delight: "_You can't catch me_!"


End file.
